Epilogue
One Year Later
I checked my hair in the visor mirror of my yellow Bug, tying half of it back with a blue silk ribbon that matched my dress. I swiped on a quick layer of pink lip gloss, took a deep breath, and grabbed my purse.
As I crossed the parking lot of The Brick House, butterflies swarmed my stomach. The same teenager stood at the entrance, that I had snuck past before, popping her bubblegum and scanning tickets. Only this time, it wasn’t an event for the fifty-plus crowd.
Grant had come up with the idea to host a vintage movie night for the community and suggested The Bees Knees be the sponsor. Our first—of hopefully many—joint projects.
“Hey, Kelsey.”
She waved me by without much acknowledgment. I chuckled, climbed the concrete steps, and walked inside the building.
The air smelled like popcorn, salt, and butter. My eyes immediately found my Mr. Muscles behind the bar, handing out bottled sodas, licorice ropes, and popcorn to eager kids .
I resisted the urge to skip as I hurried past the mingling crowd, making my way to Grant. Relief settled in my chest—people had actually showed up. For a while, I was worried it would be just Grant and me. Though, honestly, that didn’t sound like a bad night either.
When I was almost at his side, I saw it—the exact moment he spotted me. His brown eyes lit up, his dimple appeared, and just like that, the butterflies in my stomach settled.
He stepped away from the counter, leaving the others to fill orders, and met me halfway.
“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, pulling me into his arms and wrapping me in the scent of leather and earth.
My head tipped back, my cheeks aching from smiling. “Look at this.” I gestured around the lobby. “I wasn’t sure other people would even come.”
His thumb brushed my cheek. “Of course they would. It was my idea.”
I rolled my eyes. “Uh, my store is the sponsor, so I think it’s a we event.”
“You’ll never hear me argue against anything we.” He grinned, glancing at the black-and-white movie posters hanging throughout the lobby. “Just think—if it weren’t for old movie reels, I never would’ve found you.” His hand slid to my hip, pulling me closer, his grin turning delicious.
And then he kissed me, right there in the middle of the lobby.
The world melted away.
This man was everything. He made me believe in myself. He made me feel beautiful. Seen. Loved—in a way no one ever had.
When the kiss ended, he laced his fingers through mine.
“All right, we can’t be late to our Cary Grant movie date.” He raised a brow and nodded toward the ballroom. “Have you ever seen My Favorite Wife ?”
“Oh, that sounds familiar, but I’m not sure. ”
I kissed him on my favorite dimple, and then caught a glimpse of someone across the lobby. Was that Peter from Leo’s with, I guessed, his wife? I couldn’t believe he was here. He gave me an excited wave.
Next to him, other familiar people. My mouth dropped open. What?
Ivy. Caleb. Mom—and Grant’s mom, chatting like they were best friends. Mom’s Robert also stood slightly behind my mother near the group.
“No way.” I grabbed Grant’s hand. I rushed over to them, dragging Grant. “You guys!” My heart swelled. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
Grant’s mom blinked rapidly, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. My forehead creased. Ivy grabbed my hand, pulling my attention to her as she pulled me into a hug.
Grant gave quick side hugs to Ivy and Caleb. “Thanks for coming.”
“How long are you stay?—”
Before I could finish, Jane ambushed me in a squealing hug.
“Em! This is amazing!”
“I know, right?” My cheeks hurt from smiling.
Grant cleared his throat, pulling everyone’s attention. “All right, we better head inside. The movie’s about to start.”
Caleb clapped Grant on the back, and I caught the flicker of something on Grant’s face—nerves?
We made our way inside, where the ballroom had been transformed into a classic movie theater—red ropes, red carpet, and rows of seats. A huge screen on the stage.
The lights dimmed, and orchestra music swelled through the speakers. The screen flickered to life, shifting through cards of actors and actresses.
Cary Grant was good-looking, don’t get me wrong. But if I had to pick? My Grant won, all day, every day .
Grant lifted our joined hands and pressed a soft kiss to the back of mine. His breath was a little unsteady, his posture stiff. Was he worried about the event? Or was it something else?
Halfway through the movie, he leaned in close. “You know, I think you’d be my favorite wife.”
I smacked his arm. “I’d better be your favorite—and only—wife.” I raised an eyebrow in challenge.
He chuckled and then suddenly a light flicked on in the ballroom.
Confused, I turned toward the light switches. The movie was still playing, but…no one was watching it.
They were watching me. A hush had fallen over the room. My pulse kicked up. What…was happening?
I turned to Grant—only to find his seat empty.
My stomach tightened and I looked down.
There he was—kneeling in front of me, a small velvet box in his hand.
My breath caught.
“Emma Ann Woods,” Grant cleared his throat and took a steadying breath. He opened his palm, waiting for me to take his hand.
Oh. My. Gosh. He was proposing?
My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes. The whole room, the whole world, faded to just him. Just this moment.
“You love your black-and-white movies,” he said, a grin playing on his lips.
“True.” I chuckled.
“I’ve decided that’s because you are so full of color. So full of life. That’s what you are to me—all the color. All the brightness.”
I used my shoulder to wipe an errant tear on my cheek.
“Emma Ann Woods.” His brown eyes found mine, and I got lost in the depth of them. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my favorite”—his lips quirked up—“and only wife? ”
I pressed a hand to my heart, happy tears finally breaking free. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
I stood up, pulling Grant with me, and threw my arms around him as the room erupted in cheers.
And just like that, I was home. Not a place. Not a building. Just him. Always him.